I stood on my tiptoes and lifted, placing a chaste kiss against his lips. Then I walked out of the kitchen, through the house, and out the front door. I wasn't sure who I was madder at … me for pushing too hard when I knew better.
Or Quinn for keeping that cold, miserable distance between us.
Lilly
I STOOD IN my mother's kitchen chopping onions and celery for the cornbread dressing - that was the extent of what my mother would allow me to do - while Mom and her sister, Aunt Jenny, worked on different side dishes. The house was full of family, many of them having traveled the distance to Jackson Hole to spend the holiday with my father, knowing it would more than likely be his last.
It was great to have everyone under the same roof again, but the underlying reason as to why sat in the back of everyone's minds, not really allowing for a totally festive Thanksgiving.
The football game was on in the living room, and every few minutes, masculine shouts could be heard, either from triumph or disappointment. From the sounds of the yells that just reverberated through the kitchen, they weren't too happy with whatever just happened on the screen.
I turned in the direction of the door and smiled, loving how normal everything seemed.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Aunt Jenny started, "Hank and Keith better be prepared to scrub these dishes spotless when we're done eating," she said about her husband and grown son. "I'm not slaving away, making this meal for them so they can just sit on their butts and watch football all day."
My mother laughed softly from her place at the stove. "Jenn, in the twenty years Keith's been born, and the thirty you've been married to Hank, when have you ever known those two to leave you a dirty kitchen when you've spent the day cooking?"
Aunt Jenny paused and looked up, pondering Mom's question. "You're right, Lizzy. I've trained them well."
We all laughed just as my cellphone rang from my back pocket. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and pulled it out. Quinn's name shone up at me from the screen. True to his word, he'd called yesterday after the little drama we'd had the night before. I could tell he was still concerned about my mindset, but I was doing everything I could to put him at ease.
Yes, I was still unsettled by how stagnant our relationship seemed to be, however, I couldn't help but to hope Quinn would finally let go of the past enough to let me in.
"Be back in a sec," I told my mom and Aunt. I headed out the back door for some privacy, too eager to take the call to worry about bundling up against the cold temperature outside. I engaged the call and brought the phone to my ear. "Hey," I said softly, a smile splitting my face.
His deep, rumbly voice carried through the line. "Happy Thanksgiving, baby."
"Happy Thanksgiving. How are you? Did Sophia get to Seattle safely?"
He sighed into my ear, and I knew he still wasn't happy about sending his daughter to a different state for the holiday. "Yeah, got a call from her earlier this morning. She's excited to be with her grandparents."
"Well that's good," I said, trying to give him a bit of comfort. "And it's just two more days. She'll be back before you know it."
"I know. You're right. And she's having a great time. I just hate being away from her."
My heart gave a small tug. "You're a good dad."
I could hear the grin in his voice when he said, "Thanks sweetheart. So, what are you up to today?"
I looked through the window into the kitchen to see Mom and Aunt Jenny chatting and laughing. My feet carried me along the back deck until I got a perfect view into the living room. Dad looked good … better than he had in weeks. It was like having a house full of people breathed life into him. He was happy.
"I'm helping my mom and aunt cook. The men are camped out in front of the TV watching the game."
"Oh Lord, you're in the kitchen?"
I rolled my eyes toward the blue sky. "Ha ha, smart ass. You'll be happy to know I've been relegated to chopping duty. What about you? Are you guys planning on making a turkey or anything?"
"Nah. We tried that a couple years ago and got called out in the middle of cooking. By the time we got back the food was ruined."
I frowned, thinking about him and the rest of the guys not having anything to commemorate the day. "Well that kind of sucks."
"Part of the job," he replied nonchalantly. "We've all gotten used to it. At least with us working Thanksgiving we won't be on shift Christmas Day."